


Guns and Spiders

by 2space_lesbo1



Series: Writing Miles content cause no one else will [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Video Game 2018), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, i need fanfiction of these two, so i wrote some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 13:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Miles wants to be able to handle this.





	Guns and Spiders

**Author's Note:**

> ok listen!!! 
> 
> i just beat the spider man game and i love miles and needed some bonding time between him and peter and i really can't believe there's not more content of them like!!! come on!!! new spider son with peter as spider dad!!!! jump on it people!!!
> 
> but i yeah i wanted to write this cause i love miles and miles and peter ok anyway yeah

As Miles swung through the skies of Manhattan, he had a pretty good feeling for today. He'd completed all of his homework for the weekend, aced a test in biology, and had just gotten out of school. Oh, he had also stopped a small ATM robbery. So so far, he was doing amazingly. Now he just had to meet up with Peter, and they could continue with his training. Maybe they could figure out how to better use his venom shock to their advantage in battles. 

He really does need to work on controlling that, though. A few times while battling some bad guys, Miles has tried to use it on said bad guys, only to end up accidentally using it on Mr. Parker. Kind of embarrassing. And bad for Peter, of course. 

He's going through all of this in his mind, when the sound of a gun firing causes him to land on the side of a nearby building. He sticks both of his hands to the glass and cranes his neck backwards, searching for the source. 

He finds what appears to be a group of Fisk’s men robbing a store. Huh. Peter told him that they don't normally stoop to something like this. Must be a first for everything. 

He wants to instantly swing in to help the situation, but hesitates. Peter had always told him to steer clear of armed robberies when he was alone, and to wait for it to find him. Because it was dangerous for him to go head first into fighting armed men alone. 

But then he considers what Peter has always told him: “With great power, comes great responsibility.” And he knows that he can't wait or leave. 

Besides, there were only a few men. It shouldn't be that difficult, even if they did have guns. So, he leaps from the building’s side and dives for the ground, tucking his legs in close just as he'd been taught. He leaps back to his feet, just as the bad guys are jolting around to face him. 

“Really guys?” he asked, trying his best to channel his quipping. He's good at quipping. At least, that's what Peter tells him. And Peter isn't always totally accurate when it comes to joking. “No loose change?” 

Miles leaps out of the way of a line of fire, shooting a barrage of webs at the bad guys as he lands on the roof. More gunshots go off as he unstick himself, punching on the bad guy’s square in the jaw. The guy stumbles, dropping the gun, and Miles kicks it away. 

He's turning to web up a third guy, when the third guy- who he had thought he'd decommissioned- comes out of nowhere, swinging a crowbar at him. It skims his side, ripping off the protective layer of his suit. He leaps to the side as this happened, letting his leg kick the thug in the face as he flies backwards. 

He lands on a nearby wall, feet keeping him in place as he peers at the torn area of his suit. “Ah come on,” he muttered to himself, already knowing that that was his allowance for the next few months. He ducks as his spidey-sense goes off, warning him of bullets. He drops from the wall and back to the floor, locking his eyes on the remaining three thugs. 

He quickly goes about disarming the thug with the gun, launching himself forward before the guy could fire again. He dodges to the side as another throws a punch at him. He jumps upwards, landing on the thug’s shoulders. 

“Alright, this has been fun, but I need to get going soon,” he said to them, webbing the thug’s arms to his sides. He brings his foot down on another, landing on his feet. 

“Oh, I'll show you fun!” the last thug yells, and that's when his spidey-sense screams at him. 

He's about to turn to take out the last thug, when his spidey-sense flares horribly. Usually when it's this bad, there wasn't necessarily enough time to move. Whatever was coming was coming and he has to prepare himself. 

And that's when the bullet lodged itself in the flesh of his unprotected side, sending a flare of horrible pain throughout his entire body. His teeth grind together and he gasps, falling to his knees as the pain horribly shocks him, blood seeping through the small hole in his suit. 

His teeth continue grinding together, ears ringing. His spidey-sense flickers once more, and he sluggishly dodges to the side, looking over his shoulder at the thug he'd thought he'd disarmed, raising the gun to shoot again. 

“Time to kill me a bug,” the thug hissed, looking down the scope of his gun. 

Through the blinding pain, Miles dodges to the side, causing the bullet wound to flare with even worse pain. He lands behind the counter, panting as the agony runs through his veins. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, leaning against the counter, shakily reaching up towards his mask. He needs to call Peter now. Sure there's only one guy left- maybe more if any of the others wake up- but he's not sure if he'll be able to leave here without help. The pain was becoming too much. 

He'd never been shot before, so this was new for him. 

It takes a second or two, but Peter finally answers. “Hey, Miles, what's up?” he asked, without a care in the world. Miles hates to ruin that. 

“H- hey Pete,” Miles said between panting breaths, crawling around the corner of the counter as the remaining thug rounds, gun ready to shoot him again. “I… I have a bit of- of a problem.” 

Instantly Peter’s tone of voice changes from carelessness to concern as he speaks again, “Miles, what's wrong, what happened? Where are you?” 

Miles draws in another sharp breath as he inches the next corner, shutting his eyes tightly since he knows this won't work for much longer. The thug would get tired of playing hide and seek and shoot him, or another of his friends would reawaken and attack him next. He had to get out of there. 

“There was- was a robbery,” he explained best he could through clenched teeth as he forces himself to move as fast as he currently could. He kicks himself forward with one foot, shooting a web onto the wall and crawling towards the exit. He can hear the thug following him. At least he wasn't trying to rob the place anymore. “They…” another sharp breath, and he can hear movement on Peter’s end of the call. Probably getting suited up. “They had guns- woah!” 

He jumps just as his spidey-sense screamed at him to do so, and he lets out a strangled moan as he lands nearby. 

“What?! They had guns!” Peter exclaims, and Miles is pretty sure he's web-slinging now. “Miles, please tell me you didn't engage.” 

Miles crawls between two of the buildings and into an alley, limping to a dumpster. Not the best place to hide, but one of the only. He flops down behind it, pressing a hand into the area the bullet had entered. He's pretty sure it's still there, the bullet. Better than it going through entirely, he thinks. “Yeah…” he pants more. “Sorry.” 

There's a moment where Peter doesn't say anything, and Miles could hear the thug turning into the alleyway. “Where'd you go, you runt spider?!” the thug yelled. 

Peter curses on the other end. “Okay, Miles, I need you to be calm. Just tell me where you are.” 

Miles presses his lips together, fingernails digging into the skin around the wound to try and stave some of the pain. He squints his eyes, only now realizing how blurry his vision had become. He searches for something that could tell where his location was, eventually spotting a store across the street from him. 

“I'm… I'm in the alley in front of- of R-” he gasps as the thug appears before him, gun held ready. 

“There you are!” the thug yelled with glee, finger adding pressure to the trigger. 

Miles lets out a yelp and he leaps to the side just as the gun goes off, slamming into another dumpster. His breath juts out sharply, and his vision blurs horribly, but he can just make out the thug looking around quickly, as though he wasn't able to spot Miles, even though he was right there in front of the thug. 

“Where'd you go?!” the thug shouts once again, looking stupid probably. 

“Miles? Miles!” Peter’s voice comes back into focus and Miles snaps his eyes open, processing only just now how strange this was. How could the thug not see him? 

But he's too tired to worry about that right now, just glad he's not being shot at right now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I- I’m here,” he stuttered, keeping his voice as low as he could at this moment. Pretty difficult, considering the fact he was bleeding out. “Ro- Rosa’s Pa-... Pawn Shop. That's- that's where.” 

The thug, seeming to be bored of searching for him, eventually leaves the alley, muttering something about spiders. 

Miles leans his head back, eyes watering. “Okay, okay Miles, don't worry, I'm coming,” Peter assured him through the loud haze suddenly in his ears. That does help him focus a little bit. 

Miles breathes heavily through his nose. “Okay,” he said. 

“Okay, focus on my voice, Miles,” Peter said then, and Miles really doesn't want to. He honestly just wants to shut his eyes, even if that was a bad idea for him right now. “Come on Miles. I'm almost there. Focus on my voice.” There's a pause as Peter probably swings from one building to another. “Say something back to me, Miles.” When Miles doesn't- he's too tired to, really- Peter tries something else, “Tell me about your dad, Miles. I'm curious.” 

That gets his eyes to open a little. Miles shifts how he's leaning against the dumpster before he begins to speak tiredly. “He… he was a great… great man,” he said, hissing sharply as another pang shoots from his wound. “He di- did all he could to s- save people.” 

He pauses for a second, and Peter urges him to keep talking. “What all did he do?” 

“We- well, he- he saved you,” Miles said, and a shaky smile turns the tips of his lips upwards. He lets out a breath, body slumping as more energy leaves him in the form of the thick, red liquid gushing from his stomach. “B- but he also saved a- a lot of people.” 

He stutters to a stop when a loud thump sounds from the other end of the alley. “Okay Miles, great, I'm here now. Where are you?” Peter’s voice is strained with worry. 

Miles spots Peter not too far off, and his smile widens. “I- I'm right be- behind you,” he answered, a stray tear sliding down his cheek. He'd been holding his test back this entire time, but the pain was becoming too much for him. 

Peter turns, his wide lenses searching for Miles. “Where? I don't see you?” 

This confuses Miles’s sluggish brain, because Peter should be staring directly at him. He lifts his free hand as high as it'd go currently, but still Peter doesn't see him. 

“Miles?” Peter said, and Miles could hear the panic in his voice. 

Gathering a breath, Miles forces his legs to move. He stands with a small gasp of pain, leaning heavily against the dumpster when his legs threaten to give out. Peter comes closer towards to where he was, reaching a careful hand out. It lands on his shoulder- and that's when Miles realizes that he is, in fact, invisible. Or something close to being invisible. 

“Miles…” Peter says his name again, this time with wonder in his tone. Probably because Miles was currently invisible. That's understandable. But then Spider-Man seems to shake himself. “Alright, we need to get you out of here. Where are you hurt?” 

“St- stomach…” Miles responded. “Bullet…” 

Peter curses under his breath. “Just got to figure out how to make you visible again…” he mutters to himself. “But first gotta get you out of here…” 

His arms then snake underneath Miles’s legs and behind his back, raising him into Spider-Man’s arms. Any other day, Miles would have been utterly embarrassed, even if it was Spider-Man who was doing the rescuing. But right now, he couldn't move, even more think. His brain felt like a soup of pudding and clouds and that made it hard to think. 

“Hold on a little bit longer,” Peter said to him, but Miles’s attention was already wandering again. “Stay with me, buddy.” 

Miles tries, he really does, but his focus wavers out and he's left with nothing but black for what feels like hours. This all clears only when someone else’s hands land on the wound in his stomach. He shouts out, body jolting as more pain courses through his veins like fire. 

He begins to squirm as the hands move from the wound to his suddenly maskless face and he panics, terrified the thug had come back for him. Now he knew who he was and his mother was in danger and- 

“Miles, it's me! Calm down, please, you'll hurt yourself!” someone yells at him through his panic, and Miles could hardly recognize the voice as Peter’s. 

That calms Miles down, and he relaxes back as best he can, trying his best not to move as Peter’s hands slowly move back to the wound. “I'm trying to get the bullet out,” Peter said in explanation, and finally Miles could focus on his face. It was a clear image in a blur of blinding white light, and his voice was the only thing he could currently hear. He could feel something in his flesh, and he nearly screams again, but he bites down on his lip, entire body trembling. “Yeah, I know, it hurts like hell. But don't worry. I think I've almost got it.” 

Miles’s hands clench and unclench uselessly until his fingertips finally catch on the edges of whatever he's laid across. He grips the sides tightly, nails digging into the surface. He grits his teeth, but can't stop the pained groan from escaping his lips as the thing in his wound finally begins to pull out. 

“Okay, okay, I got it buddy,” Peter assured him, and he sounds as though he'd been holding his breath. Miles’s vision flickers between all white to Peter’s face being covered with in black dots. Both sights make him feel more ill than he already had. A cool hand suddenly rests on his forehead and Miles can't help but lean into it, only now realizing how burning hot his skin has gotten. 

“Oh, great, you have a fever,” Peter mutters more to himself than to Miles. “Alright, I gotta get you somewhere more comfortable. Brace yourself.” 

Unfortunately, Miles still couldn't process a lot of things. So when Peter once more picks him up and accidentally jars his wound, he can't help but scream, legs flailing. “Dammit,” Peter curses once more. If Miles could think right, he wouldn't have missed how Peter has cursed more in the past… however long it's been than he usually does. “Sorry, sorry. Here, this oughta be more comfy.” 

Peter was right. Whatever he'd just laid Miles across was very comfortable, and it helps the kid relax some. His eyelids grow heavy suddenly, and he has to close them over his stinging eyes. The world was too blinding to look at, anyway. 

He could just hear Peter saying something else to him, but his grip on consciousness slips too quickly between his fingers. The world goes blessedly black. 

 

When Miles wakes up next, the world is much clearer, and his stomach isn't continuously throbbing. He opens his eyes, and he can just make out the shape of Peter’s apartment. He draws in a breath and sits up hesitantly, groaning as his stomach protests. 

“Ooooh,” he hissed, entire body sore. “Feels like Rhino flattened me.” 

“Yeah, that's how it normally feels after being shot.” Miles looks to the door just as it opens to find Peter stepping in, a smile on his face. Though Miles could see the concern in his eyes as he moves over to the bed. He crouches next to the bed and places a hand on Miles’s forehead. “Hey, buddy, how you feelin’?” 

Miles blinks a few times and merely falls backwards. “Like Rhino flattened me,” he repeated, then mutters a ‘dangit’ to himself. Yeah. Such a horrible word. “How could I let this happen? I'm so stupid!” 

“Woah woah woah,” Peter said and his hand comes to rest on Miles’s raised shoulder. “Don't go saying things like that. That's not a good habit to get into.” Miles could hear the smile in his voice, but with his back turned to his mentor of sorts, he couldn't really see it. Peter sighs. “But you shouldn't have gone into the fight alone, Miles. You know that. I've told you time and again that-” 

“‘It's too dangerous when they all have guns’,” Miles recites miserably, grabbing the only pillow on the bed to cover his face with it. He just wants to disappear from the world currently. He had thought he could handle a few guys with some guns, and then he'd gotten shot and then he'd needed rescuing. He was supposed to be the hero that saved people! Not the victim who needed saving. How embarrassing. “I know.” 

“So why-”

“I thought I could handle them!” Miles exclaimed, and he would have shot up if his stomach didn't yell at him with its pain. He decided to stay laying down instead. He curls inwards, finding that this helps dull the pain a little bit. He sighs heavily, face buried in the pillow. “I'm sorry. I should have called you. I just couldn't let them hurt anybody.” 

Peter shifts behind him and the bed creaks as he sits down on the mattress, being careful not to hurt Miles. “And that's what makes you such a good person,” Peter said. “You like helping people.” Miles nods into his pillow, fingers unconsciously digging into the area around the bandaged wound. “But you have to know your limits. You have to know when to call me.” 

Miles nods again, finally looking up at Peter’s concerned face. “Okay,” he said, and Peter smiles. “I will. I'm sorry.” 

“Just don't do something like that again,” Peter said in return, holding his arms out. Miles stiffly sits up to lean into the offered embrace, finding warmth there. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, kid.”

Miles smiles, because things would be okay. 

“Also, you're not allowed to patrol for a month.” 

Maybe not as okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i need a beta reader probably lol


End file.
